What's Left of Me
by Hitomi Leiko
Summary: Fang has a problem. Max can't help. If it includes the emo kid song and FAX, it has to be good.
1. Chapter 1

**Max's POV**

I had just finished telling Gazzy that ammonium and bleach plus matches is in fact not a smart combination, when Fang came up to me. Being his usual quiet self, he sat right next to me on the log near the fire we had just built to cook dinner on. After staring into the flames for a while, he looked over at me, and I met his startling chocolate brown eyes, before quickly looking away. I didn't exactally want to turn all red when he was looking at me. "Max, we need to talk, alone." He said evenly, no trace of emotion in his voice. I pulled my eyes away from the roaring fire, and back to him again. Fang, always a man of few words had become, if possible, even quieter these last few weeks after we came back from Germany. Maybe something really was up. I nodded, and looked back at the flames, warming my hands near it as best as I could.

As soon as the kids were asleep, Fang got up, tapped Iggy's hand twice to let him know that he was in charge, and then lead me into the forest. By the pool of light the dieing fire, now several hundred yards away, I could see his face clearly enough to know that he was upset about something. He seemed unsure, and hesitated for a minute before saying, "Max- I need to tell you something. It's really important. Don't hate me, I-" I looked blankly at him. "Ok, I'd better show you." He began to roll the arm on his sleeve up. "Fang, what-" I began to ask him before I saw them. Along his forearm, half dozen, maybe more, even scars marred what had once been smooth skin. One of them was still bleeding.

"Max, I- It's not what it looks like-" he began before I cut him off (no pun intended) "Well then what the hell is it Fang? You've been cutting yourself. Is my leadership that bad? Is it really so bad that you want to kill yourself?" "Look Max, it has nothing to do with you, really. And I don't want to kill myself." He said "Well why, then why the hell are you doing this to yourself?" "I don't know. It's just- it's just everything. I mean I can't stand it. I hate running for my life every day, I hate Itex, and the Whitecoats, And I just hate my life. I mean I don't want to be a mutant runaway hybrid with an attitude problem, I just am. I didn't choose this for myself. I never feel like I have a purpose or a reason to keep living besides the flock. I don't owe it to myself to live, I'd probably just be better off dead. But that's the thing. I want to live. I don't know why, but I do. I could never kill myself. There isn't a reason to live, but there's none to die, and frankly max, I'm scarred. And I need help."

I looked up at him and stayed silent. He admitted needing help. That's like the number one Fang rule, along with never admitting pain, or discomfort. "Crap." I said. He nodded. "That's why I'm leaving. I need to. I can't let Angel find out about it. The same for Nudge and Gazzy. Iggy doesn't know either, but I'll bet he suspects it. He's been avoiding me lately. And I need help to stop. That's why I'm leaving. There's this place in Boston, for people- like me. They can help me get better." He s turned and was about to leave me standing there, before stopping and walking to me again. "And I want to get better because I- well, I love you Max. And I want to go so I can come back. I won't be gone forever." He leaned down and brushed my lips with his own before turning and running into the woods.

I probably should have gone after him, but instead, I just stood there, like the fool I am, tears streaking my face, my fingers coming to brush my lips in wonder that he had just kissed me. "I love you too fang." I whispered on the off chance that he could hear me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**** NICK LACHEY ****LYRICS**** "****What's Left Of Me****" Don't own, don't sue, thanks.**

**Fang's POV**

I Flew. What else did you expect me to do? That picture of Max's face kept entering my mind. It wouldn't go away. I couldn't make it stop. So I let it stay. Something to remind me of her. But she was crying, tears blurred her gold brown eyes, making her look even more beautiful, if that were possible, but also miserable.

I wanted to go back so badly, but I couldn't. If I want to be with Max, I ought to be able to give her a whole person, not the empty shell I've become. I owe it to her, and she wants someone like that, she needs someone whole.

Watch my life,  
Pass me by,  
In the rear view mirror  
Pictures frozen in time  
Are becoming clearer  
I don't wanna waste another day  
Stuck in the shadow of my mistakes

Yeah...  
I've been dying inside,  
Little by little,  
No where to go,  
But going out of my mind  
In endless circles,  
Running from my self until,  
You gave me a reason for standing still

_[Chorus_  
Cause I want you,  
And I feel you,  
Crawling underneath my skin  
Like a hunger,  
Like a burning,  
To find a place I've never been  
Now I'm broken,  
And I'm faded,  
I'm half the man I thought I would be:  
But you can have what's left of me

It's falling faster,  
Barely breathing,  
Give me something,  
To believe in  
Tell me: It's not all in my head

Take what's left  
Of this man  
Make me whole  
Once again

_[Chorus_

I've been dying inside you see  
I'm going out of my mind  
Out of my mind  
I'm just running in circles all the time  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left of me?  
Just running in circles in my mind  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left of me?

Will you? Or will you take what you deserve. You don't need me, but I really need you Max.

I landed outside a tall grey building with the words "Troubled Youth Hospice and Help of Greater Boston" Yep, this was the place. It actually looked a bit like a hotel in that grim, prison-ish way.

I went in and into the main office to check myself in. The policy here is that everybody lives in dorms and none of the "patients" are supposed to ask or tell each other what their problem(s) is. Hm… I think they might just have something there. (note: sarcasm)

The trouble was that for the next however long it takes to get out of here, my room mates are a group of Homosexual, Anorexic, chronically depressed, or I'm-just-so-spasmodically-happy-that-you -know-I'm-on-drugs guys. Great. Honestly, you'd think that they'd just put all the sensible people together, and the loonies together and be done with it, instead of forcing the poor guy to have the 'emo kid' song, and 'if you were gay' sung at you for an hour or so during "orientation" while they all tried to guess your problem.

Fun fun.


End file.
